


Dark Horse

by Megalohdon



Series: Dark Horse [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: 1920s, Darkhorse stuck, Humanstuck, Multi, Personal AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalohdon/pseuds/Megalohdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the 1920's the last thing on peoples' mind is politics. However when a young Jake English partners up with a politically experienced Dave Strider to take the mayoral office things get a bit out of hand. With power at his finger tips Jake beings to lose his grip on reality, losing himself to the madness within. After all, what's the fun in being a Lord if you can't be a little mad once in a while? Especially since he was the dark horse candidate running in the election.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Informative

**Author's Note:**

> A personal AU idea I thought of when I was bored. Based in the 1920s Jake and Dave team up to get Dave out of office and Jake in it. Seeing as Jake has no political experience, and Dave goes about bashing Jake to keep the plan working, Jake effectively comes off as the dark horse candidate, winding up winning the election and, over time, losing his mind to the power he he had been graced with.  
> There are some terms you may or may not be familiar with. If you are not, here is a quick link to each word you may or may not want to look up: http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17980572554/1920s-slang-terms-and-phrases  
> Other wise you should be all set to continue on your journey through this fiasco.

Before you read on to Chapter one you must familiarize yourself with some very important aspects of the AU.

**[Directory of phrases used in the story](http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17980572554/1920s-slang-terms-and-phrases) **

** [Physical Appearacnces](http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17932765469/dark-horse-stuck-character-physical-headcanons) **

** Ages: **

Jake: 27

Dave: 29

Dirk: 27

John: 26

Rose: 28

Roxy: 26

Jane: 25

Jade: 25

Aradia: 26

Tavros: 23

Sollux: 24

Karkat: 22

Nepeta: 25

Kanaya: 23

Terezi: 28

Vriska: 22

Equius: 26

Gamzee: 24

Eridan: 23

Feferi: 24

Handmaid: 54

Summoner: 53

Psionic: 55

Sufferer: 56

Disciple: 54

Dolorosa: 57

Redglare: 58

Mindfang: 57

Darkleer: 60

Highblood: 60

Dualscar: 59

Connie: 57

** Occupations/General Info: **

jake is this respectful business man or well we assume that

auto is his servant, or servebot.

hes a huge political figure head

respected and wealthy

dave is as well, and they are seen as rivals

which is their game, they use that to their advantage. Jake is younger, Dave is quite just a bit older

but dave is like “im too bored with politics and shit ill help YOU win”

and thats why hes a dark horse no one expects him to win

but he does

however the power goes to his head and everything

and something… switches on in his mind

something within him just comes to life and now hes some sort of psychotic power figure 

jane is a good friend of jake and is a business powerhouse herself, seeming to do rather well for herself, supporting jake and endorsing him when needed

roxy is a barista, though is having a rough time due to prohibition so she relies on roxy and jake for financial support (neither care)

dirk is daves brother (obv.), same age as jake. dirk is in high with some powerful figures, knows a few mafioso bosses and such, which aids jake and such. of course he does it because his brother forces him to do so, however eventually he grows fond of the psychotic political powerhead

John is the ringmaster at a local circus that Jake funds simply because he enjoys it aand it makes him look good among the voters. John and him are pretty close, surprisingly so. Whatever turn their friendship takes wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone

Rose is Jake’s personal psychiatrist that medicates him and keeps him sane for the most part. However when she goes out for reasons all her own Auto is informed to keep Jake in the house. Can’t have him getting involved with the mafia.

Jade will work with Nepeta at the local veterinary clinic, doing free work for her cousin (Jake). She also spends free time at the shelter doing some free check ups there. Jake pays her well so she really doesn’t need to charge commission for the shelter animals.

The trolls, I’m thinking, are human. Karkat would be the local paper boy that prefers delivering to Jake and Dave because of their high tips (They like reading the paper when they are in the headlines)

Aradia probably works as a maid for Lord English, not something she ENJOYS but he pays well so she doesn’t complain in his presence. Or Auto, that thing seems to be rather attached to his master.

Sollux… Works as a librarian, alone usually. Karkat bunks with him and gives him free papers, which in turn he puts in the archives in case by chance someone is interested in reading up on the history of the town (which he doubts but does it anyways)

Tavros… um all i can really think of is a busboy at a local diner. Really shy and quiet, using his tips to try to pay for schooling.

Nepeta would probably best be off as a veterinarian, someone Jake is close in relation with because he’s rather fond of his collection of animals and loves to make sure they are in the best shape they can be

Kanaya is a seamstress, usually working personally for the political duo, making them suits for each public outing and interview. They like to look the best, and she knows how to do it. One of the better living lower class kids.

Terezi works as a P.I at the local station. Her duty with the duo is to make sure any case about either one that comes about is wiped out. Of course she asks for a pretty penny in return, but justice is crooked.

Part of the Town’s mob along with Gamzee and Eridan. Gets away with near every crime because of close relations to Dirk (whom has close relations to Jake and Terezi). It’s pretty nice to be able to go around and kill on whim without having to worry about getting booked.

Equius is Jake’s mechanic. He charges pretty high and kinda keeps to himself, but he makes sure all of Jakes mechanical equipment is working smoothly (especially auto, whom he works with Dirk on to keep running well). Jake likes him rather well but Equius is too socially inept to try to spark up a friendship with the boss man.

Little fef is the town princess in a sense. Mother dearest Connie, the duo’s biggest enemy, makes sure her little jewel knows the ways of politics and getting what you want. The librarian is good for a resource when it comes to learning what is needed for it. Sweet girl from looks, terribly dark with a desire for power.

Ancestor wise the sufferer is a washed up Pastor that runs a shanty little church on the bad side of town. Karkat kinda shunned him when he was younger after he made all his friends parent’s despise them both, so he doesn’t get to see much of his son. Would be an alcoholic if it wasn’t illegal.

Psionic is the political record keeper down at the town hall. Doesn’t get paid much but is very well relied on by the powerheads to keep everything on record (minus the things that look bad for them)

Summoner runs a self defense class that helps the younger, less abled citizens be able to defend themselves against any threats they might face on the streets. Low pay, but he enjoys his job.

The handmaid works for Dave, same position as her daughter. A little more detached from her boss than Aradia is with Jake, and tends to keep quiet, but works for her pay and doesn’t think much about it.

Disciple runs the local animal shelter, taking in the massive amounts of abandoned animals that are tossed out yearly due to lacking of funds. The depression is hard on everyone, especially the four legged ones, and she takes it upon herself to treat them well.

Redglare is the local judge, obviously in cahoots with the duo and her daughter. Rather well paid, actually. She loves being corrupt, and sees no harm in passing a different verdict than what the jury said if there is money involved.

Mindfang works as a lawyer, pretty close to Redglare and likes to manipulate the judge to let her cases win most of the time. The depression is hard on everyone. Everyone but the corrupt law makers.

Darkleer… Works at the local car factory. A washed up powerhouse that used to be idolized as a local boxer until he was miraculously defeated. He knew it was a cheat but there was no evidence. So he gave up the boxing lifestyle and went to work on cars at a factory. He’s rather proud of Equius though.

Highblood would easily just represent the ‘Don’ of the mafia. That is all there is too it. A cold blooded man of extreme power, a force to be reckoned with by anyone who meets him. The duo isn’t afraid though, oh no. Money and a little persuasion gets the Don on anyone’s good side.

Dualscar… Rough and rowdy police chief, man who wants to do right justice wise but can’t seem to care. Will throw in anyone the highblood and connie requests, and of course the duo (but they have to pay). Most lawmakers are corrupt in this city, and even the police chief can’t be sparred from doing whatever it takes to make some money.

This is obviously in the 1920s, during the prohibition. Jake and Dave are highest power, then Connie, Fef, Dirk, Highblood, Vris, Eri, Gamzee, Redglare, Mindfang, Dualscar, Terezi, Rose, Roxy, Jane, Jade, John, Summoner, Darkleer, Sollux, Aradia, handmaid, Tavros, Karkat… I probably forgot someone oh well. That’s how they would look, like… Power wise.

I would say New York, setting wise? I think darkhorse could be really fun.

yeah thats it.

**[Jake's Home](http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17975713056/jakes-home)  **

If you've got that then I'd say you're good to go!

** [](http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17975713056/jakes-home) **

**[](http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17980572554/1920s-slang-terms-and-phrases) **

**[](http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17980572554/1920s-slang-terms-and-phrases) **

**[](http://dhemon.tumblr.com/post/17980572554/1920s-slang-terms-and-phrases) **


	2. The Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s a prince of sorts. The kind living off bought respect and borrowed time. A well respected man because no one had a reason not to. He’s young, but powerful. His friends are ones with connections, and he knows how to use them. He’s a puppeteer, favors hung by strings he allows to dance before the city. An old school player with not a care in the world what it takes to get on top. He’s a man of panache and swagger. He’s a man that’s out to get it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A personal AU idea I thought of when I was bored. Based in the 1920s Jake and Dave team up to get Dave out of office and Jake in it. Seeing as Jake has no political experience, and Dave goes about bashing Jake to keep the plan working, Jake effectively comes off as the dark horse candidate, winding up winning the election and, over time, losing his mind to the power he he had been graced with.   
> There are some terms you may or may not be familiar with. If you are not, they will be posted at the end. Words from the era are marked with an *, so keep your eyes out

He’s a prince of sorts. The kind living off bought respect and borrowed time. A well respected man because no one had a reason not to. He’s young, but powerful. His friends are ones with connections, and he knows how to use them. He’s a puppeteer, favors hung by strings he allows to dance before the city. An old school player with not a care in the world what it takes to get on top. He’s a man of panache and swagger. He’s a man that’s out to get it all.

February, 20th, 1920. It’s a Friday; the chill is bitter, though at six in the evening most citizens have found sanctuary in their own homes. Winter in the city is no one’s friend, creeping under skin, chilling the innocent to the bones. No soul is safe from the silent wrath it ensues each minute of every wretched day. The clouds hang low in a looming predatory manner, waiting to release their winter warriors upon the unsuspecting below. The sun is on vacation, no one has heard from it in days.

Skiapolis, the city in which, dear reader, this story takes place, is one that, by appearances, seems rather… Calm, for lack of a better word. Everyone seems well put together, heads on right, and at first glance crime seems nearly nonexistent. Of course, like any great American city, it holds its secrets. Political corruption, murder, run down slums that even the rats take effort in avoiding. The citizens are well trained in feigning appearances. A happy city on the surface, sure, but take out your pick axes and jackhammers and quickly you will see what lies beneath. The insects the people really are, the mammals that take pride in blindly feasting upon the innocent, the unaware. The moles of the city. God save them.

If you head out the farthest road of the city and reach its limits, you have a few options. Take the left, right will never allow your return. A smaller road, the left is, still a part of the city, but it’s rather obvious the wealthier live out here. The first house, a vibrant light blue Victorian style abode with a dark brown roof and a wraparound porch should be the first one you notice. The driveway is home to one of those new-fangled Model T Coupe’s that have just come out. A cute car, certainly not one you would imagine the owner of the home having.

Of course you’d have to know who the owner is. You don’t, though. Not yet. Of course our story starts here, under the cold clouded skies on the out skirts of Skiapolis. A nice home fit for a person of wealth. Someone obvious in power, or in relation to someone who holds a title of sort. That kind of person would obviously be the only person to logically make sense to live here. Now, please, relax and sit back. The story is taking a bit of a turn, hold your head. Things will spin, and will be different. You might not instantly notice, but a fair warning is all I am going to grant you. Chattering, coughing, and curses litter ears of two noble men and the servant to one of the aforementioned. On a silver platter in the servant’s hand, outstretched to the two wealthy men were two fine quality cigars. Both, of which, were picked up and placed properly between their lips, patiently holding the beast until the servant lit each. Puff, drag, hold, exhale. A simple process that, in many years’ time, would shrivel up their lungs, allow them to crumble into nothing, becoming their predicted end.

Two men, two obvious friends, sat in one’s smoking room discussing politics. Or a political scheme to be precise. The older, a tall, slender blonde man with rather stunning red eyes and hair properly slicked back to the right, was speaking, adjusting that black and white pinstripe suit he donned so perfectly. It hugged his frame well, a rather suiting choice of attire for the twenty nine year old powerhouse. Dave Strider, born into a political family, was next in line to take the heavy reigns of the family business. Or that was what he would like to consider it.

Political corruption was his game; the whole Strider name was built on lies and false hope. But the citizens were ignorant, blinded by the promise of a better tomorrow. Not a care who was doing the job, just the fact that someone promised them more than another. They were easy to read, and the times being a bit rougher than most were used to made deception easy for young Dave.

The only thing is, Dave prefers the limelight as being one of the ‘first children’, or so he called himself and his younger brother. The kids of the city’s golden couple. A powerhouse couple that, together, built the city from ashes of lost hope. There was a lot riding on their shoulders that neither seemed very interested in taking. Mum and dad were upset, of course, but Dave had a plan. A plan that involved the other male in the smoke polluted seating room.

Jake English, a twenty seven year old immigrant from Great Britain. A dashing raven haired English gentlemen, sporting a proper suit duo (black and white pinstriped pants and a black blazer, under vest a nice forest green, the tie a black shade, the button down shirt a simple white against the two colors, respectably), cigar in hand as he draws it from his lips, hair slicked to the left, soft and daintily resting against his forehead as emerald eyes beamed down at Dave through a pair of spectacles that rested rightly on the bridge of his nose. Jake, like most men he associated with, was a rather dashing young man. Charm, sure, he had it. He was witty and quick when Dave started quick draw debate topics. An intelligent lad. Young, handsome, and intelligent, the perfect candidate for Dave’s master plan.

He called it the Dark Horse plan. Dave, a man not so interested anymore in the luxury of politics, was highly expected by the public to run anyways. Jake, on the other hand, was not. Wealthy and well educated, yes, but not many people were aware of his political potential. Which was great, as Dave saw it. The Dark Horse plan consisted of a few things. They both go in for running as mayor; however Dave will automatically be the favorite by the public.

Which, he says, is the brilliancy of the whole thing, that they expect him to win, it’s near sure fire that he is successful in his candidacy. Jake will be the political Dark Horse, the candidate no one expects anything out of. The one that works well in the shadows to build themselves up good morale, whereas Dave works to draw the public away from himself. Not ruining his good name, heavens no. But with this plan, Dave makes sure Jake is jerked out of the public’s blind eye, right into the sight of view. They will vote for him, he will win, and the two men go home happy.

“You see, Jake, not a soul out there wandering the streets of this wretched city expects you to be something. Hell if they know who you even are.”

“I pride myself on my low popularity! Of course I’m rich, yes, however I’d rather have a few friends in high places, then a plethora in the nooks and crannies of the city’s shanties.”

“Couldn’t have said it better, English.” Thin lips curled up as a small glass was raised for a speechless toast. Jake obliged, taking a drag from his cigar while the sound of two glasses clinked and echoed off the walls. Out the cigars were pulled from smiling lips, the only thing that had originally kept the duo from drinking the fine Scotch earlier in the evening.

Jake waved his wrist, index finger outstretched as the rest retreated and folded into his palm. The waving stopped and the famous ‘English finger waggle’ started, eyes glancing up over his glasses towards the bot across the room. The metal figure hesitated, right forearm folded neatly across his metal chassis, white towel folded over the limb as he was ordered to do. His name was Otto, a creation of Dave’s younger brother, a gift to Jake for his twenty first birthday a few years back. Despite being in eternal servitude to the young Lord, Otto and Jake oftentimes referred to each other as friends, rather than ‘master’ and ‘servant’, each used respectably.

Of course he still had to obey the man, suited form unwillingly obliging the silent beckoning to offer his services at the other’s side. He glanced down, orange red eyes glowing faintly as that metal mouth he was blessed with (unlike most of Strider’s creations) was forever drawn in a straight, non-emotional manner. The brother insisted it would be easier to take the servant more seriously if there was not even the slightest possibility his face could show emotion.

The Lord just grinned, a faint hint of his golden canine peeking behind near parted lips, “Otto, would you be so kind as to put out our cigars and start on dinner? And please, inform your creator I request his presence in the living room when he is available. Oh! Yes, and do remove the dead soldiers* from the room, it’s a bit unsettling.” There rarely was a retort to an order that Otto ever felt was appropriate to say. Instead he nodded, straightened himself, and went about his business. There was never a need for arguments with the Lord. He was a bot, of course it would be rather silly for him to go about and simply argue with his master. He wasn’t programmed for that. Just obedience.

The men glanced at each other for a silent moment before pushing themselves upwards into a straight stand, arms outstretched as their hands met and shook. It was a proper way to end a smoking room meet up, no matter how brief it may have been. Of course their little meeting lasted about the entirety of two hours, both properly buzzed from the scotch. Only two right, proper men, could come out of that room, smelling of smoke and alcohol and be able to play it off as if they were mere observers of a social gathering, rather than partakers.

Dave parted off with a wave, heading home on his own terms (assuming his brother knew how to find his way home). Jake, quite a bit light headed from the alcohol, made his way to the living room across the way, sprawling out across the couch with an arm thrown across his eyes. God forbid the lights were on. Of course, when the younger Strider found his caller, the switch went up and a headache set in. All the blonde could do was scoff at Jake’s discomfort and groaning.

He took a seat next to the couch, right leg over left as his fingers curled over the ends of the chair. Like Dave, the man was a blonde by nature, though a darker, dirtier shade as opposed to his brother’s nice, clean, golden hue. That rare eye gene never skipped a Strider, orange eyes examining an inebriated Jake English, thin lips upturned in a curious smile. Dirk Strider was seen in a white button down with a black vest over top, black slacks that fit his form well, and a pair of orange suspenders that, currently, were hanging down to his sides.

A thin hand rose to rest against his head, the hair atop slicked to the right just like his brother, though a bit cleaner. Neither Strider was cut short from the gene pool, strong features about them both made them two equally pleasing bachelors the city had their eyes on. Of course, Dave embraced his status, while Dirk was more set on his ways of waiting it out. He was a bit outspoken, compared to Dave, but he didn’t mind. Dave was social, Dirk was smart. No matter whom you talked to, both Striders got proper compliments out of the town’s people.

“You called, Jake?”

“Mnn, God damn, Dirk, were the lights necessary?”

“Ah, yes I’d say they are. Can’t have a conversation in the dark, now.”

“We have before.”

“I’m afraid we both were a bit bent* that day.”

“I can’t see how that is any different from right now.”

“For crying out loud*! Jake, seriously, what do you want?” The arm fell from Jake’s face, lips down turning as he attempted to feign sadness. Of course Dirk could sniff through his act, nose wrinkled in annoyance as he shifted and rolled his eyes. Easily these two what one would call ‘Best friends’. Even drunk, Jake never challenged his friend. Dirk had his head on right; Jake respected and admired that about him. They were a duo that perhaps, if one should lose the other, would lose all ability to survive properly. They were each other’s weights that kept them on earth.

Jake pushed himself up onto his elbows, jaw tightened as he frowned, eyes narrowed in frustration while Dirk just smiled and shrugged. He was always so casual about things, heaven forbid the bad took something serious in his life. Defeated, Jake’s head fell back, neck stretching awkwardly which granted a brow raise from the other. He was playing his distaste as long as he possibly could, and Dirk allowed it. He always did, obviously. It was just Jake having himself a pity party in the middle of a conversation.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, you horse’s ass. Can’t I start up conversation by complaining about your choice of action?” Otto had made his way into the room, standing behind Dirk, the man that brought him to life, the reason he was standing in that room that moment. It was silly how Dirk fashioned Otto to resemble him in appearances, but he informed Jake it was “So you can boss me around without me decking you in the kisser.” Jake was pleased, either way, and welcomed the robot with open arms into his home. There hadn’t been problems yet, which after six years, was a miracle all in itself. But surely Dirk was a master with his work; he wouldn’t give his best mate a faulty automaton.

The blonde shifted again, this deep burning need to always be on the move coming to attention with a bit of claustrophobia. He’d sit on the couch if Jake hadn’t claimed it as his place of refuge from an alcohol splurge he had with his brother earlier that day. He hated the chairs Jake granted his guests, tight and closed up. A prison Dirk made them into mentally each time he sat in them. “Dinner? What would a high hat* like you want me to come to dinner for?”

“I’m having company and I can’t see why I wouldn’t want my best mate there with me. There’ll be hooch*, of course, and dames*! And a well prepared dinner from a good attendant of mine, mister Otto there.” Dirk glanced up over his shoulder at the silent machine, eyes meeting with a questionable spark before he sighed with a nod, “Yes, fine, I’ll come. Those poor Janes*, you’re going to try to woo them aren’t you?”

“Not quite. It’s all business I’m afraid! No time for fun, sadly. I’ve got an investment in the circus. Or will, after tonight. Need you there to keep my head on tight, assure me I don’t muck things up.” Jake laughed briefly, pushing himself into a slumped seated position, head hanging towards the ground with his eyes closed as he fought back a headache. Dirk motioned for Otto to bend down, whispering something to him before getting up, standing behind Jake, arms crossed. Otto had left, not a word spoken to either of them, to fulfill the request Dirk made.

“English, I’m afraid you’re going to need a bath before you even think about making a deal with that ringleader fellow.” The darker haired male glared up over his shoulder, lips down turned again as he contemplated Strider’s words. He sighed, as he always did, pushing himself up to turn and face Dirk, “I’d say you’re right about that bit, Dirk.”

“Of course I am, Jake. Now come on, Otto’s running you a bath, we don’t have any time to waste.”

“I should stop drinking…”

“For tonight, perhaps that would be a good idea.”

“Sounds better than my plan.”

“That’s what I figured.”

He’s the prince of Skiapolis, unknowingly, unwillingly. That shining star in the night’s sky the denizens of the town look up to and make a wish. A saint in a town of sinners. This man, a certain Jake English, was the prince of a town he hadn’t taken control over yet, though just imagining the power was enough for him to feel like this town was to bow down to him.

And they did.

———————————————————————————————————

dead soldiers- Empty Beer bottles

bent- Drunk

For crying out loud- Same use as today

high hat- Snob

hooch- Alcohol

dames- Girls

Janes- Any female


End file.
